Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zara
T he sun is almost gone, the sky darkening, the waves reflecting lilac and gold.
A breeze blows off the ocean as it surges towards the shore, splashing against the stone barrier.
I feel as free as the birds that skim the waves, their wings wide, drinking in the last of the day.
It’s as though something deep within me has loosened, something about the night and Myles and the magic of the past few days moving through me, relaxing me.
We almost kissed in the waterfall pools.
I knew it was what he wanted. I can’t deny I wanted it, too.
I haven’t had any alcohol but I feel drunk, somehow, drunk on the wild landscape, the hissing ocean, the purple-streaked skies.
I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, and it doesn’t matter, I realise.
That sense of freedom swirls through me, the knowledge that nobody except the two of us knows we’re here.
We leave the hotel grounds, taking the curving path along the base of the cliff. My skirt slides around my legs, the fabric clinging to me like a caress. When Myles’s hand brushes against mine I take it, twining my fingers with his.
Myles stops at a stone bench set into the hillside, the road above us empty, apart from the occasional flash of headlights. The nearby hotel gleams white like a ship glimpsed in the gathering dark, about to head out to sea.
“Shall we sit for a while?”
His hand tugs on mine, gently. It’s as though electricity connects us, my fingers tingling. He sits down, pulling me with him. I almost land in his lap, his hands on my hips as he catches me, one arm coming around my waist to stop me falling backwards.
Then his mouth is on mine.
I don’t even know how it happened. Nor do I care, once the first moment of surprise passes.
His lips slant across mine, the kiss deepening, our tongues tangling.
He tastes of honey and salt, his mouth hot and hungry.
His free hand slides down my back, then caresses my bare leg, his touch awakening tingles along every inch of my skin.
I press against him, lost in the feel of him, the strong muscles beneath the linen shirt, his fingers on my skin, the musk and fire scent of him, the hiss of the nearby ocean.
His hand leaves my leg, his other arm still holding me to him as his fingers tease me through my dress, circling my breasts then travelling the valley between.
His hand slips inside my neckline, warm against my skin.
His thumb rubs hard on my nipple and I gasp, arching against him, my head going back.
His mouth traces my jawline, his stubble scraping me, his breath warm in my ear.
“What if someone comes?” I manage to breathe. But my heart is pounding, slickness at the top of my thighs as his hand moves lower, sliding beneath my skirt.
“What if you come?” he growls. “Because that’s what I’d prefer.” He pauses, though, as if waiting for me to give him permission.
Oh God. He needs none. I don’t even care if anyone sees us. I am lost to reason, want him so badly. I reach down, taking his hand to where I need it to be, my legs parting.
He groans, shifting so my leg is across him, so I can feel his hardness pressing into my thigh.
His fingers trace across my underwear, then slide inside.
I feel his sharp intake of breath at how wet I am, his fingers parting me, his thumb circling my clit then pressing down.
I almost scream, burying my face in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, breathing him in as he plays with me.
His fingers slide between my folds then enter me, first one, then two.
Oh, I am going to die here, and I will die happy.
His arm around my waist is like iron, holding me in place, his cock rock-hard against me.
“Myles,” I sigh, as pleasure builds in me, pressure in my lower belly begging for release. His fingers tease me, circling my clit then entering me, until I can hardly bear it. “Oh God,” I moan, as his fingers continue to slide in and out of me, as I tighten around him.
“Come for me, Zara,” he groans, the heel of his palm pressing down on my clit as his fingers plunge inside me once more.
I’m so close to the edge, grinding my hips against his hand.
He pulls his fingers out once more, sliding up to my clit, caressing then pressing down again, sliding his tongue into my mouth at the same time as he slips his fingers back into me.
It’s all I need. The orgasm explodes through me, taking me as though it’s a wave and I’m floating, utterly at its mercy.
“Zara,” he mutters, his stubble scratching my throat, my chest, as he kisses downwards, holding me while I shudder, pleasure tingling through me from head to toe. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Since we met.”
Since we met. It’s like a shock of cold water, another wave crashing over me. I stiffen in his arms, remembering when we met, who he is. What he is.
My boss.
Who has a girlfriend.
And we’re on a business trip.
Still panting, aftershocks shimmering through me, I push at him. “I can’t,” I say, my voice breaking, feeling as though I’m about to burst into tears. “I can’t do this. You’re my… we shouldn’t be…”
I manage to extricate myself from his embrace, evading his reaching hands. It’s almost dark now, but there’s enough light for me to see as I run back along the path to the hotel, my hands to my mouth, tears starting to flow.
What the hell am I doing?
I race up the stairs to my apartment, not looking back. I think I hear him call my name but can’t bear to face him. I lock the door behind me, pulling the chain across, then switch on the light.
Then I collapse face-down on the sofa and burst into tears. Realisation washes over me, stark and horrific. I can’t lie to myself anymore.
Myles is my boss. I’m his employee.
And I’m falling for him.
I can’t keep working for him.
Somehow, I need to quit my job without leaving him in the lurch. Without seeming like the biggest idiot in the world.
Myles
What the hell just happened?
I had Zara right where I wanted her, in my arms. I know, I was supposed to be playing a long game.
But I also know she was enjoying herself, and I was too.
I wanted to make her moan like that, make her whisper my name in my ear, make her wet, make her come, over and over again.
But more than that, I know I want to be with her.
I’ve dreamed about this moment for months, of how it would be to spend time with her, to see her glorious hair loose around her shoulders, to make her laugh, to treat her how she deserves to be treated.
To fuck her until neither of us can stand.
But none of my dreams have lived up to the reality of actually spending time with her, of feeling her against me, her heat and wetness around my fingers. I groan.
She’s right, of course she is. We shouldn’t be doing this.
I’m a goddamn idiot.
It takes me a moment to stand up. And by the time I do, she’s gone. I run along the path towards the hotel and glimpse her slender figure at the foot of the stairs as I enter the pool area.
“Zara!” I call out.
But it’s too late. I hear the slap of her feet on the stairs, then the rattle of her door, the slam of it closing.
I stand there for a moment, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand.
I turn, slowly, and realise I have an audience.
A few people are in the seating area, sprawled across the bright cushions, several with beers in hand.
When I turn, one of them raises his bottle.
“Better luck next time, mate,” he says, in an Australian drawl.
The group laughs. My gaze narrows, and I consider burying my fist in his grinning face.
“Yeah,” I say. “Next time.”
I kick off my shoes. Then I walk towards the pool and dive in, fully clothed. I gasp at the shock of cold water, letting it take most of my arousal from me. But when I surface, pushing my hair back, I can see the light is on in Zara’s apartment, gleams of gold coming around the shutters.
I try not to imagine her in there, what she might be doing, stepping out of that dress, brushing her long hair.
But I can’t help thinking of what we could be doing together, my cock stiffening again.
I want to know her, in every way. I want to make love to her, want to taste every inch of her body, feel her come around me.
Want her at my side, more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman.
I can’t imagine my life without her. I don’t give a shit about paperwork, about my careful plans, about anything. I only care about her.
Then it hits me.
Fuck.
I drop back into the water again, floating on my back, staring up at the merciless stars. I can’t lie to myself any longer.
I’m her boss. She’s my employee.
And I’m falling for her.
I can’t shit where I eat.
Nor can I wait any longer, playing the long game.
Somehow, I need to fire her. And I need to do it in a way that doesn’t make me the biggest asshole in the world.